“People Are Nicer To Daddy Because He’s White”

Just last month I was on a flight where I was on the receiving end of blatant racism. I have no doubt in my mind that the manner in which this particular airline employee (a white woman) spoke to me and treated me was a direct result of the color of my skin. As I am wont to do when it comes to processing the acts of racism that I am subjected to, I felt the immediate pull to name and claim my own responsibility in the situation. I know this undoubtedly is the result of being socialized from the collective culture who repeatedly and authoritatively tells me and other people of color that our experiences with racism actually have nothing to do with race at all and it’s a notion that I find imposed upon me on an all too regular basis.

Luckily, I had the good fortune of traveling with a friend who helped keep my perspective in check. My gut knew that this flight attendant’s behavior was racist, but I still found myself trying to make excuses for her. I was pissed. Both at her, and at myself for not calling her out right then and there. Then again, she did threaten to take my bag off the plane if I didn’t do what she said (although my friend heard that it was me the employee was threatening to remove from the plane), so I promptly obliged and sat down in my seat.

With a highly critical letter already half composed in my brain (which I did write when I got home), I looked across the aisle to my friend and said “Gee, I’m thinkin’ she would have never treated or spoken to S. (my husband, who is white) that way.”

Fast forward to the following month. Last week my family and I were on a return flight finding ourselves in the same predicament that I was in just several weeks before: trying to position and accommodate our airline approved carry-on luggage in the already crammed overhead compartments. Like my flight a month before, it was full and the overhead space was at a premium. Even though my husband’s luggage didn’t fit (just like mine didn’t quite fit when I was on my flight), he didn’t find himself on the receiving end of yelling, scolding and condescending behavior. Rather, two flight attendants made triple the amount of attempts on behalf of him and his luggage that I made with my mine – attempts mind you which were met with hostility and a threat to have my suitcase (or me, as the case may be) removed from the plane.

Admittedly, these events were not truly identical in that not only did we have different flight attendants, but that my family was on a completely different airline than the one I flew on last month. I get that. But that doesn’t change the facts of how I was treated and how my husband was treated. I wish I could tell you that these events happened in isolation and that our family has never experienced another situation similar to these. But of course we all know that not to be the case. I am aware of it. My husband is aware of it and our kids, ages 9 and (nearly) 7 years are fully aware of it as well.

After my incident on the plane several weeks ago, my husband and our kids had numerous discussions about it. My kids outright admitted that they didn’t think that their dad would have been treated as poorly as I was and using their own language, both were able to identify sexism and racism as part of the equation.

When this most recent event took place on our flight last week, both of my kids were quick to comment. My son especially is an astute observer of the particular behaviors people around him exhibit. Without any prompting, he matter-of-factly remarked to me that “people are nicer to daddy because he’s white and that people like to help him more. You have brown skin and people don’t like that as much as they like white skin”. My son’s daily lexicon does not include the phrase white privilege, but he witnesses it on a daily basis and is intimately familiar with the weight that it carries. (I would argue that we all bear witness to white privilege on a daily basis – some are just more adept at identifying it for what it is.)

I remember feeling such dissonance when I was about my kid’s ages regarding my white privilege by association. Like my son, I didn’t identify the way my parents and brothers were treated as “white privilege”, but I certainly knew enough from my experiences to know that I ranked a helluva lot higher as a human being when in their white presence. It did not go unnoticed that I would receive top notch treatment and be given the benefit of the doubt – all of the time, regardless of the context of the situation, whenever my parents or brothers would be with me. It continues to this day – with my family, my husband and my white friends. Alone, I am a suspicious person who is on the brink of doing something unlawful or untoward; with my dad in tow, I am suddenly transformed into a prospective client whose whims and desires are found charming and are offered to be met. Alone, I am a dispensable and barely seen customer who is relegated to waiting until the older white gentleman has been served; with my husband by my side, I am magically elevated to a more deserving status and ushered to a table straight away. Alone, I am presumed to be submissive and impervious to snide remarks and stares that suggest I don’t speak English; with my girlfriends suddenly I am a living, breathing, vibrant woman who is recognized for having a personality. Is this my dad’s, husband’s or friends’ fault that they are treated this way? No. Is it their responsibility to recognize that their white privilege affords them opportunities, access, benefits and preferential treatment that those they love as well as others of color are repeatedly denied? Absolutely.

It’s not uncommon for me to hear from white adoptive parents that it’s somehow okay to use their white privilege as long as it benefits their own child of color. But what is this really teaching their child? Whether my parents consciously used their white privilege to advance my own (or their own) best interest is irrelevant. No one is arguing that they did not have good intentions. The fact of the matter is thatas a person of color, the impact is that I left the proverbial nest woefully ill-equipped to navigate this racially charged world. I may have been raised by a white family and treated as an honorary white person in their presence, but I had not been taught to anticipate how the world would treat me as an Asian woman, which is what I am. I was so conditioned to be treated as the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. X, that when I was no longer under the tutelage of two white parents, I was left unprotected, unprepared and uneducated on what to do when I was subjected to racist acts and behaviors.

The whole “Just stick by me, kid, and you’ll be fine” mentality does a child of color NO FAVORS. Because God willing, our kids will grow up to be adults and the world WILL see them not as your son or daughter, but as a person of color. Here’s a newsflash: The world already sees them as people of color because that is who they are. And like it or not, that means something in this society. We owe it to our kids to acknowledge this and to empower them with the language, the skill set and the permission to talk about race, racism and white privilege. My kids need and deserve to have their experiences validated in a way that mine were not. To recognize that yes, they are my kids and that of course I love them unconditionally, but to get over myself and to help my husband get over himself to know better that the greater world will first and foremost see them as a bi-racial female and an Asian male. And that those identities mean something in how they will be received by many. I harbor no illusions that they will be afforded the same privileges, benefits and unearned rights as their father and I challenge my husband at every turn to check his privilege at the door and to see the world from the eyes of his children. . . to acknowledge and observe that the standard of treatment he has come to expect often far exceeds what his wife, kids and other people of color are offered in identical situations.

To paraphrase the words of a white, male adoptive parent from Pact Camp who I admire and respect so very much, it is incumbent upon white parents of children of color to be intentional about NOT using their white privilege to their advantage and especially not cashing it in for their children’s benefit. In essence the message being relayed is “You, as a person of color, will never be worthy enough to stand alone as the person you inherently are and without the rightness of my whiteness, you are and always will be seen and treated as less than.”

To my son I say, yes, honey, you are right. Many people do treat your mom differently than they treat your dad and that is not right. I am worthy enough to stand alone. YOU are worthy enough to stand alone. We are not less than and we will not allow to be treated as such.

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I’m a black woman and I completely understand being treated well by association. There is a high-priced store on 5th Ave. (I won’t name names) that I like to go in once in awhile to look around, even though I can’t afford the merchandise. I have always been ignored in this store, but the one time I came in with my ex-boyfriend, a blond-haired, blue-eyed white man, the sales person greeted me and was so happy to serve me. As I browsed the women’s section, he came to tell me about all the promotions. He left and after awhile he came back to see if I needed any help. It still pisses me off that I am seen as worthless by some people unless I’m with a white person.

http://pickygirltriestoeat.wordpress.com/ mclicious

Thanks for writing this. I am a biracial female adopted by a white mother and light skinned, mestizo/Chicano father. It’s only in the past few years (and thanks a great deal to blogs and websites like these, which have given me a vocabulary and virtual community) have I realized how much white privilege I have had, and how much I expect to have. So I get angry when I don’t receive it, but then I also get annoyed with myself for assuming I would have gotten it. Now I’m trying to look back at moments when I was only with my brown father, and when I was only with my white mother, because there were probably differences in treatment that I was either too young to put a label on or that I ignored. Has anyone else raised by white parents had moments when they look in the mirror and have to remind themselves that they’re not lighter than they are? My entire life, especially when it comes to buying makeup or thinking about how to do my hair or something, I’ve consistently either identified myself as way darker than I am or way lighter, because I either forget that I’m not like everyone around me, or I remember it too much.

I digress. Mainly, in response to your post, word.

guest

Wow, this is a great piece… thank you. I think my experience growing up with a white father did create a lot of resentment for me, because he did (and still does) “defend” me with his privilege. I still feel “safer” when I’m with him, but now that I’m not a child anymore, I am very aware of how much his presence changes the dynamic of a room, or the customer service at a store… Like nicthommi said, I did have a “slap in the face” moment, when I realised I wasn’t white, and without my dad I had to figure out how to deal.

Morenaclara

Thank you for writing this article. My mother is a Mexican immigrant and I learned at a very young age that people were nicer to me when I was with my Anglo-American dad. The worse part, I did not want to admit this until I was in college. I still hurts me to admit that some people will treat my mother( a educated intelligent woman) poorly.

In re-reading that “check your privilege at the door” means that a White person must first of all recognize that he or she has and receives privileged treatment just because of his or her White skin color. Is this what you meant? If so, I agree, although all White people benefit from White privilege, certain White people (such as those who are rich, straight, male, and without any physical or mental disability) benefit from White priviledge more than other White people.

In re-reading that “check your privilege at the door” means that a White person must first of all recognize that he or she has and receives privileged treatment just because of his or her White skin color. Is this what you meant? If so, I agree, although all White people benefit from White privilege, certain White people (such as those who are rich, straight, male, and without any physical or mental disability) benefit from White priviledge more than other White people.

Mickey

This is true, however, even White people who are not rich, straight, male, physically and/or mentally disabled many times still have an advantage over POC.

Matt Pizzuti

Could you put it this way:

White people (all) benefit from white privilege, consistently… White people who are male benefit from white privilege and ALSO male privilege… White people who are straight benefit from white privilege and ALSO heterosexual/heteronormative privilege… White people who are wealthy benefit from white privilege and ALSO class privilege…

I like to put it that way because it doesn’t leave ambiguities about whether white privilege is real and consistent – every white person has it. The idea of privilege isn’t intended to provide a sum measurement for how easy/hard every person’s life is, it is intended to state a social reality of being identified as a member of the most socially-valued group vs. not being a member, and “WHITE privilege” specifically, is better off remaining neutral to other factors besides race.

White people who are LGBT, have a visible disability, who are women, who are poor, etc… are often more reluctant to admit to white privilege or accept the language because they feel disadvantaged in other ways. But when you add the concepts such as heterosexual privilege and class privilege to the mix, you validate their sense of disadvantage and give them constructive language to use for their own interactions with prejudice, directing their frustration towards privilege itself rather than minority groups they previously saw as competing for recognition as “disadvantaged.” I think what it does is it validates them and also validates people of color experiencing racism.

The truth is that no matter how poor or otherwise victimized a white person is, they/we just don’t experience racism. I think it’s important for us to recognize that whatever experiences we have elsewhere are different, and do not give us reason or cause to invalidate the experiences of people of color.

Shira Aliza

I think it’s more complicated than that. Our government defines race based on a process of elimination – if you’re not in the categories it wishes to exclude (e.g. black, “hispanic,” Asian) then you are deemed white even if you’re not. There are people who are legally white (Arabs, Iranians, Jews, etc.) who experience racism frequently – some more than others depending on how well they pass. Those who can pass for white receive white privilege but only as long as they do not acknowledge their actual ethnicity or “look or act the part.” An assimilated secular Jew may receive white privilege based on passing – a Chasid, not so much, particularly in some areas of the country. As an Ashkenazi Jew I benefit from white privilege by virtue of quietly passing as white in places like Los Angeles or New York, where there is a lot of diversity, but I have also felt completely “OTHER” in predominately genuinely-white areas where people just somehow knew I was not “of” them – and I have certainly experienced racism as a result. I benefit from the fact that I can pass in some areas, but I lose from the fact that I pass there only as long as I keep my mouth shut – as soon as I acknowledge that I am a Jew, people see me as a Jew, and that is the case in all-white areas AND diverse areas. It’s much like passing as straight (which many gay/bi people do), or passing as able-bodied (if you have invisible disabilities), two things I also do as long as I keep my mouth shut. I can benefit from the privilege, but at what cost?

Thanks for sharing your well written article. You wrote “I challenge my husband at every turn to check his privilege at the door and to see the world from the eyes of his children. . . to acknowledge and observe that the standard of treatment he has come to expect often far exceeds what his wife, kids and other people of color are offered in identical situations”. As an African American, I’m curious about how a White person can “check his [or her] prividege at the door”. I understand the other parts of that sentence. Is hat what you meant by “checking privilege at the door”? For example, I can readily believe that White priviledge could have been the reason why airline stewardesses helped your White husband with his bags while you received no help and indeed was harrassed on another flight when you were traveling alone. However, how could your husband have checked his White privilege when he was receiving help, besides asking the stewardess to also help a Person of Color? Maybe I’m being too literal. If so, please forgive me. I also want to say that as a former adoption provider and adoptive parent, I appreciate your comments about persons who grow up in transracial adoptive families, and how White parents of those children/teens should recognize that their children are of Color and will be treated as such. My experience as a facilitator of adoption workshops in the 1990s and as a member of adoptive parent organizations in that same decade was that a large number of transracial adoptive parents were at least mouthing sentiments that they were color blind and were trying to raise their children to be color blind, as if such a thing were possible in our racist world.

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